


I'm Always Warm In Your Arms

by BrokenHazelEyes



Series: OT4- Greg/Ed/Sam/Spike [8]
Category: Flashpoint
Genre: Cold, Cuddling & Snuggling, Cute SRU guys, Fluff, Huddling For Warmth, I have no clue how to tag that, Other, SO MUCH FLUFF, Shirtless cuddling, Snowing - Freeform, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Who wouldn't cuddle Spike?, this is just fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-05
Updated: 2015-07-05
Packaged: 2018-04-07 18:11:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4273059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrokenHazelEyes/pseuds/BrokenHazelEyes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(This is literally just a thousand words of OT4 cuddling on the floor, shirtless...there's no plot or anything, just fluffy cuddling.)</p>
<p>“Mmmh,” Spike yawned into Sam’s chest, breathing in his unique scent, and the blonde pressed his nose into Spike’s short brown hair.<br/>“Just go to sleep, Spike,” Ed said tiredly from the other side of Sam, and he had one hand planted firmly on Spike’s lower back as he used his other arm as a pillow. Greg’s hand found his way to his own, and the negotiator tangled his fingers with Ed’s over the creamy skin covering Spike’s spine.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'm Always Warm In Your Arms

**Author's Note:**

> Good gosh, another installment? But I just updated, you say! Whelp, a treat for you guys I guess. This is, I think, the fluffiest story I have ever written in my life. I really hope you like it, because I'm having a fangirl attack over here and am flailing over how adorable this ship is. Maybe it's because it's way too late and I need to sleep... Meh, who knows. Why sleep when I can write? Sleep is stupid.  
> Please leave feedback, because it makes me very happy and it's very appreciated. Anyway, have a wonderful day and have a fun time shipping (wear your life jackets, kids!).
> 
> A/N: I do not own Flashpoint or the characters, and I do not make a profit from my writing. However, this is still my writing so please don't repost anywhere.

Snow was falling outside the windows of Greg’s apartment, dusting the icy Canadian streets as the dim December evening darkened even more into the late hours of the day. The living room was a mess of blankets and pillows, and the T.V. was illuminating the room but no one was paying attention to it.

Spike nuzzled closer into Sam’s side, the blonde hair tickling his nose but he was too comfortable to move. One of his legs was thrown over the young sniper’s hip, and Ed was plastered against his back like a bulky blanket. Greg was on the other side of Sam, and Spike was absentmindedly drawing mindless patterns on the sergeant’s bare chest.

Ed was rhythmically squeezing Spike’s hipbone, his thumb dragging back and forth over the warm skin as the material of his boxers slipped lower, and he pressed drunken kisses to the back of the bomb tech’s head. The older sniper tilted his head a bit, his nose dragging down the smooth column of Spike’s neck, and his cold lips continued to press the soft kisses against his skin as he edged towards the prominent collarbone. Spike pressed back into the feeling, but twisted as it overwhelmed him.

Sam swatted Ed lazily on the head, barely missing Spike, as the bomb tech squirmed against the blonde’s side from the older sniper’s attentions.

“Stop making him move,” Sam murmured, grabbing Spike by the leg the Italian had swung over him and pulled him further up onto his chest. Spike simply was limp, not paying attention as his position was adjusted. Ed didn’t say anything, just followed Spike’s movements and adjusted so he was still pressed tight against him.

Greg rolled over a bit onto his side, one free hand mussing up Sam’s wild locks and the other slung over Spike’s back and resting on Ed’s ribs where his fingertips were carefully drawing the bones’ outlines. Spike’s light outlines continued, his hand slipping off the negotiator’s chest and moving onto his arm and shoulder.

Ed snorted to himself, and continued to lavish Spike’s neck and collarbone with wet kisses until the bomb tech was squirming again and Sam huffed in annoyance. The blonde sniper grabbed Spike’s thigh that was currently resting on his lap and placed his other hand on the curve of the man’s waist, pulling him further onto his torso until the bomb tech was resting atop him. The team leader moved so he was pressed up against Sam’s side, his arm flung across Spike’s back, and his legs moved to tangle with the two younger members of the team.

Sam grinned, sleep weighing down his eyes, and pinched Spike’s butt when he was running his hands up and down the bomb tech’s thighs. The brown eyed Italian squeaked, biting his blonde lover’s pec in revenge, but Sam lightly grabbed him by the hair and lifted his head up so he could catch Spike’s lips. It was a light kiss with no finesse, and Spike grinned into it as Sam’s hands slid from his thighs over the curve of his backside and rested heavy on his hips.

The sergeant pinched Sam’s side and tickled Spike’s ribs, and the bomb tech slowly rose to his knees—braced on either side of Sam’s hips—while his lovers watched, confused, and Sam’s hands slipped off his hipbones and onto the meat of his thighs

“Getting hot,” Spike explained with red cheeks, and he peeled off his T-shirt before lying back down on Sam’s chest and letting Ed and Greg adjusted themselves accordingly. The hands roamed the new territory, following the graceful curve of Spike’s back and sides, and teasing fingers slipped just under the elastic of his boxers but Spike whacked them away playfully.

“Too tired,” He moaned, pressing his head under Sam’s chin and swinging a free arm over Ed.

“Then go to sleep,” Greg rolled his eyes, resting his head on Sam’s shoulder as the blonde flexed his arm out so it rested below the negotiator’s neck.

“Mmmh,” Spike yawned into Sam’s chest, breathing in his unique scent, and the blonde pressed his nose into Spike’s short brown hair.

“Just go to sleep, Spike,” Ed said tiredly from the other side of Sam, and he had one hand planted firmly on Spike’s lower back as he used his other arm as a pillow. Greg’s hand found his way to his own, and the negotiator tangled his fingers with Ed’s over the creamy skin covering Spike’s spine.

“I’m fine,” Spike tried to say, but it came out as a mangled mess of an exhausted sigh. The Italian could feel the heat of Sam’s breath against his skull, and his movements became sloppy as the intricate patterns he’d been tracing on Greg faulted and the older man let his hand slip from Sam’s hair to grab Spike’s hand before guiding it to his heart and leaving it, warmly resting, there.

“You’re tired,” Sam said quietly into his ear, “So just sleep. Stop trying to stay awake.”

Spike didn’t feel like complaining, or bringing up some half-assed counter argument, so he let his body relax and his limbs go limp as he shut his eyes. The movements of his lovers’ hands slowed considerably, but the heated, reassuring weight didn’t leave.

Someone had shut off the T.V., and the room was thrown into complete darkness but Spike’s eyes were already shut and the lack of noise quickly became an ignored fact. Slowly, he was shifted off of Sam’s chest and squeezed in between the blonde and Greg, and he heard Ed shift so he assumed he’d pressed himself against Sam’s back like he’d done with Spike.

The bomb tech’s face was pressed up against Greg’s lightly moving chest, his leg thrown over the man’s hip, and he was holding Ed’s hand by the wrist from where it was slung over both him and Sam.

“Night,” Sam whispered, but Spike was already out and the responses he got from his other two lovers didn’t really sound like English, let alone anything that could constitute a word in any language.

Ed slipped a leg between Sam’s, resting his head on his own elbow, and felt Greg’s hand settle on the arm he had over their two lovers. Their skin was warm, pressed tight against each other, even if it was snowing and far below zero outside.

It was perfect.

 


End file.
